


Beyond All Reason

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Family Issues, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: Turgon and Elrond speak of Maglor, Maeglin, and bonds of love that are not forgotten.
Comments: 16
Kudos: 84





	Beyond All Reason

**Author's Note:**

> Written for B2MeM Day 6, Finish a WIP.

"I loathed my half-cousins for Elenwë's death," Turgon said. The remains of their lunch, arranged by Galadriel and doubtless an attempt to draw Elrond away from Nerdanel and his foster-family, sat between them on the table.

Neither elf had eaten much, half sandwiches left on both their plates. Nor had the desserts been touched, small cakes piled in the center. 

Elrond appreciated the honesty, the way Turgon did not dance around the subject others here in Valinor did once they learned Elrond still loved his foster-fathers, however twisted and complicated that love was. "That is understandable, my lord. Many hate them for justifiable reasons."

"Love is complicated, is it not?" Turgon's voice was odd, something all too familiar to Elrond in it. "Here I sit, your great-grandfather, and you address me as my lord, while you call my half-cousin - a Kinslayer - father. And yet unlike the rest of them, I cannot judge you for it."

Elrond tapped his fingers against the wooden arms of the chair. That was something new. Many in Valinor were all too willing to judge him for such. "I am glad for the lack of judgment, and yet-"

"And yet you do not understand the reason?" Turgon smiled, brief and brittle. "Glorfindel dwelled in your household, Elrond. I know he has told you of the fall, how Maeglin betrayed us. I have read the histories that were penned after my death as well. The nice ones say my nephew betrayed us willingly. The cruel ones say he was half-orc, or a spy of Morgoth's from the beginning, or that he went willingly to Sauron's side as a friend."

The histories did. Even Glorfindel, as kind and forgiving as he was, had struggled to speak of Maeglin without judgment. "You disagree with them?"

"Yes." It was, though Elrond had no way of knowing such, one of the most straightforward and least measured answers Turgon had ever given another elf.

"I love my nephew. I love him as dearly as I love my own daughter, and if he is ever released from the Halls I will welcome him into my home." Turgon met Elrond's eyes. "Even though I risk losing all of the others I hold dear by doing so. You understand such, do you not?"

Elrond thought of Maglor, alone on the beach the last he had seen of him. Maglor, who he would have brought to Imladris, if only he would have come. Maglor, who Elrond would set himself against the Valar for if necessary, because he could not lose anymore loved ones without a fight. 

At least Elrond had been on his own, lord of the valley who could decide on his own if Maglor was allowed in. Turgon was at the mercy of Námo and the other Noldor, all of who could try to tell him now how Maeglin should be treated. 

"Yes," Elrond said. He considered what he could say next for only a moment, before throwing his doubts away. "I understand, Grandfather.”


End file.
